Scarecrow

Toren arrived before Toby had finished opening the shutters.

He stood in the medical doorway with his empty sleeve pinned neatly against his side. His hair was wet. He had washed, changed his shirt, and brought a small leather roll that he kept turning in his remaining hand.

Toby looked at the roll.

“Tools?”

Toren nodded.

“You won’t need them for this.”

“I know.”

Toby stepped aside.

“Bring them anyway.”

I was sitting beside the examination bed, reading the notes from yesterday. There was not much to read. I remembered the injury clearly, and I knew how to restore what was missing.

The notes were for Toren as much as for me.

Nothing was going to happen to him because somebody had decided he was ready before he had.

He put the roll on the chair.

“Still want to?” I asked.

“Yes.”

He answered quickly. Then he sat down, looked at his sleeve, and answered again.

“Yes.”

He wanted to watch.

I explained what he would see before I began. He could close his eyes whenever he wanted. Toby could sit beside him. We could pause if he asked.

“Will it look like mine?” he asked.

“It will be yours.”

He considered the difference.

Then he unpinned his sleeve.

I rested my hand against his upper arm and followed the healed paths beneath the skin. The old injury had left scar tissue where nerves and vessels should have continued. I restored those connections first, then carried the structure outward.

Bone. Muscle. Tendon. The small joints of the wrist and hand.

Everything fitted the body it belonged to.

Toren watched without blinking until the fingers were there.

Then he looked away.

Toby put a hand on his shoulder.

I finished the skin, checked the circulation, and let the nerves settle into their proper work.

“You can try moving it,” I said.

For a moment he did nothing.

Then his smallest finger bent.

He stared at it.

The others followed, slowly, closing into his palm.

He opened the hand again.

“I can feel the air.”

“Yes.”

He turned his palm towards the window.

Sunlight lay across it.

Toby reached for a clean cloth before Toren realised he was crying.

Neither of us spoke while he used it.

The leather roll held three small tools and a hinge that had never been finished.

Toren opened it when he could look at his hand without losing his breath.

The hinge was rough, shaped from scrap with holes that did not quite line up. It must have taken him a long time to make one-handed.

He put it on the table between us.

“I kept thinking I’d finish it when things improved.”

I looked at the metal.

It would have been very easy to straighten the edges and bring the holes into line.

I kept my hands still.

Toren picked up one of his tools with his restored hand.

He fumbled it once.

Then he adjusted his grip.

Toby smiled at the window as though something outside had become interesting.

“I’ll need a bench,” Toren said.

“There are benches in the workshop,” I told him.

“A proper one.”

“You should probably tell Gareth what that means.”

He looked up.

“Will he mind?”

“He likes having opinions about wood.”

For the first time since I had met him, Toren smiled without checking whether somebody was about to take it away.

Sera found me outside the medical building.

“How did it go?”

“He’s arguing about benches.”

“Excellent.”

She slipped her hand into mine and walked with me towards the square.

The washing line was still in the sunny place. Gareth’s covered bench had moved across the square, where two of the new arrivals were already sitting on it.

One had fallen asleep.

Gareth stood nearby looking offended that nobody was awake to admire his work.

Sera followed my gaze.

“Don’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You were thinking something.”

“That’s allowed.”

“Within reason.”

She leaned against me as we passed the kitchen doors.

Priya called her name and held up a list.

Sera stopped.

“What have we done?”

“Nothing yet. That’s the point.”

The list was for a covered preparation area, another sink, and storage that did not require three people to move everything before anyone could reach the flour.

I read it over Sera’s shoulder.

“I can do that.”

Priya pointed at the bottom of the page.

“After you ask the people using it where they want things.”

Sera looked pleased.

I was beginning to suspect they had been discussing me.

Luna called us to the schoolroom before we reached the workshop.

Dot and Aster were beside the long table. Wren had laid the transfer lists next to Maeve’s little book.

The two names from the shelter were on both pages.

“Alive?” I asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Luna said.

That stopped the hope before it became something we would have to take back.

Dot moved one of the copies towards me.

The two people Maeve had watched leave had passed through the same receiving system as Dane’s group. Their names appeared on an earlier list. The onward destination used a different code from the mountain.

Not one of the fifty-one we had rescued.

Not proof that they were dead.

A place to begin.

Maeve sat at the end of the table with Elinor beside her. Her book was open to the page where she had written the date they left.

“I thought they might have decided not to send a message,” she said.

Nobody answered too quickly.

Luna pulled a chair beside her.

“We’ll follow the record as far as we can.”

Maeve nodded.

Then she closed the book very carefully.

I knew that care. I had used it myself when ordinary movements were the only things I could still control.

The other discovery was less certain.

Aster had found an interruption in the harvesting records that might match the mountain queen’s memory of a human stopping the cutting.

The date was old. The entry was short.

A procedure had been suspended pending command review. Two equipment faults were recorded immediately afterwards. The operator shift had changed before work resumed.

There was no name beside the suspension.

Only an authorisation reference.

Luna had copied it onto a separate page.

“Does that tell us who?” I asked.

“Not from what we have.”

Dot turned towards her.

“It also does not establish that this is the event the queen remembers.”

“I know.”

She did know. I could hear it in her voice.

Knowing did not make it easy to leave the answer blank.

Wren put the page beside the others without joining them together.

A possible match.

A separate question.

Holt arrived while we were looking at it.

He read the entry, then looked at Luna.

“Keep it.”

“We were going to.”

“Good. And keep the parts you don’t like just as carefully.”

Her jaw tightened.

Then she nodded.

He sat down beside her and began reading the next page.

The ordinary shuttle came after midday.

We received the pilot’s request on the separate low-power channel. Dot checked it while our queen listened for any discomfort. The broad tower transmitter remained disconnected.

The pilot had landed here before.

This time there were two passengers with him, both in station clothes, carrying sealed cases instead of weapons.

Luna met them outside the receiving room with Holt, Sigmund, and me.

Risa stood a little farther back beside Sera.

The pilot looked at the new roofs, the busy square, the workshop doors standing open.

Then he looked at me.

“You’ve been busy.”

“Yes.”

One passenger gave his name as Captain Vennor. The other introduced herself as Adela Marr, records officer. Neither name meant anything to me.

Vennor looked past us towards the nursery courts.

“We’ve come regarding the removal of personnel from the mountain facility.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Luna said.

“Are the personnel here?”

“Those who chose to come.”

He glanced at the pilot.

The pilot gave him nothing.

Holt opened the receiving-room door.

“Come in. You can explain what you want where everyone can hear properly.”

The sealed cases contained documents and a receiver for the station channel.

No orders from Earth.

No sudden voice from home.

I had not realised I was hoping until the disappointment arrived.

Risa noticed. Under the table, her fingers touched mine.

Vennor placed a formal request in front of Luna.

The station wanted access to the rescued people, copies of the records we had taken, and an account of the damage to its equipment.

It also wanted the planetary queen returned to controlled custody.

Luna read that part twice.

Then she set the paper down.

“No.”

Vennor drew a breath.

“She presents a risk that you cannot assess from one cooperative encounter.”

“We’ve had more than one.”

“She was part of a system controlling hostile broods.”

“She was restrained inside it,” I said.

He looked at me.

“We have evidence of her involvement.”

“So do we. We removed the restraints.”

Adela opened her case.

“May we review your evidence?”

That was a different question.

Dot came forward.

“Yes.”

We showed them the rooms before we showed them the queen’s wounds.

The human holding sections. The work spaces where the kits had been tethered. The nursery doors, the local locks, the feeding equipment kept beside controls that could shut the young away from their mother.

Dot’s recordings were steady.

There was no need to improve them with a speech.

Adela stopped making notes when the first freed kit tested its limbs.

Vennor watched the recording of the emptied nursery passage with his mouth pressed into a line.

Then Dot showed the restraints around the planetary queen.

The support machinery.

The pathways drawing living silver from her body.

Holt put the copied maintenance records beside the images so they could compare them.

“Those are the controls your people were maintaining,” he said.

Vennor looked at the dates.

“Some of this equipment predates human arrival.”

“Yes,” Luna said. “And some of those entries are from last week.”

The room went quiet.

Outside, someone called for a bucket.

Someone else answered that there were three beside the wash shelter.

I was glad the visitors could hear that.

Adela asked whether the rescued people would speak to her.

“Some might,” Luna said. “You can ask. They can refuse.”

“We need complete statements.”

“Then you’ll need to make people comfortable enough to give them.”

Vennor shifted in his chair.

“This is an official inquiry.”

Wren, who had been copying the requests, looked up.

“Then it should be easy to write that their participation is voluntary.”

Adela took a clean page.

She wrote it.

Vennor watched without stopping her.

That was the first useful thing either of them had done.

We arranged a room beside the courtyard, with the door open and someone from Scarecrow available if a witness wanted them there.

No one would be taken to the shuttle for questioning.

No one would have to speak in front of the others.

Adela agreed to provide a copy of each statement to the person who gave it.

Then she asked for water and somewhere to sit.

Toren was the first person to volunteer.

He brought his unfinished hinge.

I did not sit through his account.

He had asked Toby to stay, and Toby had agreed. That was enough.

I went outside with Vennor and Luna while Risa took the pilot to see the new landing arrangements.

Vennor stopped at the edge of the square.

“You understand that command cannot simply accept an unauthorised settlement making independent agreements with hostile organisms.”

Luna looked at him.

“We were living here before anyone offered to help us leave.”

“That is not the point.”

“It is part of the point.”

A child ran past carrying a wooden hoop. Vennor stepped aside automatically.

Nessa came after the child, complaining that it was her turn.

He watched them go.

Luna let him.

Then she said, “The queens helped us find survivors. One showed us a shelter yesterday. Four people are alive here because she did.”

“And if the relationship changes?”

“Then we’ll deal with what actually changes.”

“You have placed a great deal of trust in them.”

“Yes,” she said. “They’ve placed some in us too.”

He looked towards the walls.

I wondered whether he was counting how difficult they would be to break.

I hoped he was counting how many people they protected.

I could not know which.

The queen beneath Scarecrow asked to speak to him.

I told him before we reached the nursery courts.

His face changed.

“Directly?”

“Through Dot, if you prefer. She doesn’t need to enter your mind.”

He looked at Luna.

“She can do that?”

“Only through a connection someone chooses to accept,” I said. “She isn’t going to force one on you.”

He took time to answer.

Then he asked whether he could remain above ground.

The queen agreed.

We met beside the broad passage, where Dot could speak for her and Vennor could stand where he felt comfortable.

She asked him whether he had young.

He looked at Dot for a long moment.

“A daughter.”

The queen waited while Dot carried the answer.

*Where is she?*

“On Earth.”

I felt the queen consider the distance as she understood it through us.

Then she asked what he would do if someone held the girl behind a door and used her cries to make him hurt other people.

Vennor did not answer.

The queen did not repeat the question.

She told him the young in our courts were waiting for their mothers. The planetary queen had her own young back. None of them would be surrendered to the machinery again.

There was no threat in her tone.

There did not need to be.

Vennor looked towards the nearest court. One of the attendants stood in its shade, a small body resting beneath it.

“I can’t withdraw the custody request on my own authority,” he said at last.

Luna nodded.

“Then write down why we refused.”

Our queen found the mother of the eighteen before the visitors left.

The message came through three willing queens and a stretch of country whose shape I had only seen in the mountain queen’s memories.

The mother was alive.

She had moved from the descending country after the devices began using her own brood against the creatures around them. She had lost the paths through which she once heard the nursery.

For a long time she had believed the silence meant the young were dead.

I went to the court with Dot and Risa.

The attendants knew something had changed before Dot spoke. Our queen had begun carrying the mother’s familiar pattern to them, gently, with enough space between each part for them to answer.

One adult lowered itself so quickly that I thought it had fallen.

Then the young gathered around it.

Risa caught my hand.

The mother could not reach them directly yet. The distance and the broken routes between the queens made the exchange slow.

But she could ask a question.

They could answer.

They were alive.

She was alive.

For that afternoon, it was enough.

Vennor stood at the far end of the covered walk while it happened.

I had forgotten he was there.

When I looked back, he was speaking quietly to the pilot.

Neither approached the court.

Adela finished the last statement near sunset.

Nine humans had chosen to speak with her. Reed and Vell had given statements with Dot present. The unnamed kit had declined.

Adela wrote down the refusal without asking why.

I liked her better for that.

Before closing her case, she asked Luna whether we had retained the original transfer lists.

“Yes.”

“Keep them.”

“We intend to.”

Adela glanced towards Vennor, then back at the page.

“The copies supplied to us do not include all of those destinations.”

Luna went very still.

“Which ones are missing?”

Adela opened the case again.

She showed us her list.

The mountain appeared under a shortened description. Several earlier receiving codes were absent. The code connected to Maeve’s two missing companions was not there at all.

“That doesn’t tell us who removed them,” Dot said.

“No,” Adela agreed. “It doesn’t.”

She let us copy the list she had been issued.

Luna wrote the date and the name of the office that had supplied it at the top.

We had another difference to explain.

It was not yet an answer.

Vennor left the custody request with us.

He also left a written acknowledgement that we had refused it, that the rescued people had been offered voluntary interviews, and that evidence of confinement and coerced labour had been supplied to his delegation.

Luna made him include the young.

He did.

When they reached the shuttle, he turned back towards me.

“What happens if more people come here?”

“We make room.”

“All of them?”

“As many as need it.”

He looked at my hair, then at the new buildings beyond the gate.

For once, I did not think the silver was what troubled him most.

It was the possibility that I meant exactly what I had said.

The pilot checked his passenger door and gave us a small nod.

Then the shuttle left.

We watched until it cleared the ridge.

Nobody cheered.

There had been too much to say and too little settled for that.

Luna went to the tower afterwards.

I found her in the usable upper room, where the windows looked across the roofs and the receiver sat quietly against the wall.

The disconnected transmitter remained where we had left it.

She had not touched it.

I stood beside the door until she looked around.

“Come in,” she said.

I sat on the low ledge next to her.

For a while we watched people moving through the square.

Then she said, “I keep hoping the next page will tell me he tried to stop it.”

I knew who she meant.

“I know.”

“And every time it doesn’t, I start wondering whether I’ve been avoiding the answer.”

“You haven’t thrown anything away.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m reading it properly.”

“No.”

She looked at me.

I took her hand.

“But you’ve kept asking. Even when you didn’t like what we found.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

“I want him to be the man I remember.”

I looked out at the city.

“I want that for you too.”

I could not promise it.

She did not ask me to.

When Risa and Sera came up, neither pretended they had arrived by accident. Sera brought food. Risa brought the coat Luna had left in the receiving room.

They sat with us while the light changed.

Luna ate because Sera put the bowl in her hands and waited.

Then she leaned against me and let the other two argue quietly about whether the curtains in our house needed another fastening.

It was a small kindness to give her something ordinary to listen to.

The next morning, the mother of the eighteen sent a clearer description of her new home.

Keir studied it with Dot, the mountain queen helping us put the remembered routes onto a human map.

It was farther than the eastern valley.

There were safe places to stop, but we would need to inspect one of them before carrying the young through it.

We made a plan without pretending that drawing a line meant the journey was already done.

The thirteen in the other court still waited.

Their attendants asked whether they would be moved when the others left.

Our queen answered before I did.

They could stay.

The rooms would not be taken from them because someone else had found a road home first.

Dot translated for the people standing nearby.

Priya nodded once and added another mark to her kitchen list.

Apparently shelter also meant knowing how many containers of food would be needed tomorrow.

I spent the rest of that morning doing things people had been asking for since before the mountain.

A door wide enough for two people carrying a table. A covered connection between the wash shelter and the houses. A storage room whose shelves could be reached without climbing over sacks.

Sera came with me and stopped me whenever I began solving the wrong problem beautifully.

At the workshop, Toren had found a bench.

Gareth was arguing with him about its height.

They were both smiling.

The unfinished hinge lay between them, now straight along one edge.

Toren had done it himself.

I passed without interrupting.

Near the schoolroom, Nessa was helping put away pencils. The new shelf was low enough for her to reach, and whoever had agreed to move it had labelled the compartments carefully.

She saw me looking.

“I asked,” she said.

“I can see that.”

She seemed satisfied with the result.

So was I.

Our queen was practising when I went below.

A shallow pattern of silver lay beneath the stone beside her water control. She had made it to help carry a quiet signal between two parts of the nursery without sending it through the whole chamber.

The mountain queen listened while she tested it.

Dot recorded the differences for its growing language notes.

I sat beside them and tried to follow.

There were distinctions I could feel now that I had missed before. A request was shaped differently from a warning. Calling a particular attendant was not the same as calling everyone nearby.

The old coercion equipment had flattened those differences into force.

It had made a language into something that could only hurt.

Dot played back two soft patterns through a small local device, at a level the queen had approved.

“Which one asks for water?” it asked me.

I pointed at the first.

Dot waited.

“The second?”

“You are improving at guessing.”

The queen’s amusement reached me.

I tried again.

This time I listened to the pause between the parts instead of only the parts themselves.

The difference became clear.

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Dot said. “Oh.”

I thought of all the times we had heard noise and assumed there was nothing in it but hunger or rage.

Then I thought of the young in the courts above us, waiting for someone to say their mother’s name correctly.

I asked Dot to play it again.

Risa found me there an hour later.

She sat on Sera’s new ledge and listened while I failed to pronounce a greeting.

The queen was very patient.

Dot was less so.

“You have added an unnecessary part.”

“What does it mean now?”

“It is not clear.”

Risa hid her smile against my shoulder when I sat beside her.

“I thought you understood chemistry now.”

“I do.”

“Helpful.”

“Apparently it isn’t the same as conversation.”

She took my hand and placed it over hers.

For a few minutes we watched the queen alter the little channel beside her pool.

Then Risa asked, quietly, “Could we check?”

I turned towards her.

“The baby?”

She nodded.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to know.”

I asked what she wanted me to look for, and she said the same things as last time. That everything was growing as it should. That the little heart was still working.

I looked gently, with her permission.

The small body was developing. The heartbeat was there, quick and steady. I told her what I could see without pretending I knew every part of the months ahead.

She closed her eyes.

“Good.”

I put an arm around her.

The queen kept her attention on the water until Risa opened her eyes again.

Then Risa smiled up at her.

“Still all right.”

The queen answered softly through our connection, and I translated.

*I am glad.*

There was no claim in it.

Just happiness for someone she cared about.

At home that evening, Sera had finished the curtain.

It hung neatly across the little room’s window, with the extra fastening Luna had insisted would stop it lifting in the night breeze.

We all stood in the doorway to admire it.

Luna tested the fastening once. Sera watched her do it and said nothing, which must have taken considerable effort.

“Works,” Luna said.

“I know.”

Risa turned to me.

“Do you have an opinion?”

I looked at the three of them, then at the curtain.

“It hangs very well.”

Sera laughed and took my arm.

“You can stay.”

I was relieved to hear it. There were plenty of other rooms in Scarecrow now, but none of them had these three waiting in the doorway.

There was not much else in the room yet.

Somehow that made the curtain more important.

Risa told them about the heartbeat.

Sera hugged her first, then me. Luna put both hands over Risa’s for a moment and smiled in a way I wished I could keep on paper.

After supper we carried our bowls outside and sat on the porch.

Toby and Wren passed on their way towards the square, her arm tucked through his. Liam and Anja were farther down the street, carrying something between them that looked suspiciously like another shelf.

Luna watched them go.

“Everyone’s building something.”

Sera leaned back in her chair.

“About time.”

Risa rested her feet against my leg.

I looked at the lit windows across the courtyard and the people walking between them.

There were still missing mothers. Missing friends. Questions about Earth and command and people we had once believed we understood.

None of those questions had become smaller.

But the places where we could sit together while we answered them had become stronger.

Luna reached for my hand.

I took it.

For that evening, we stayed on our porch.

Day 583–584. Doubt.

Toren’s arm restored with permission. He has begun work at a bench in the workshop. Gareth has opinions about it.

Maeve’s two missing companions found in earlier transfer records. Different onward code from the mountain. Their present location and condition remain unknown. Possible match found for the planetary queen’s memory of a human interrupting harvesting. No reliable identity or confirmed event match yet.

Station delegation visited: Captain Vennor and records officer Adela Marr, accompanied by the known pilot. Request to return planetary queen to custody refused. Evidence of human and kit confinement, nursery hostages, and silver harvesting supplied. Nine human witnesses and two kits gave voluntary statements. Copies retained. Unnamed kit declined. Delegation’s destination list differs from ours; missing entries documented without assuming who removed them.

Mother of the eighteen found alive. Slow contact restored through willing queens. Route to her present home being prepared. Thirteen young from the remaining brood still waiting; shelter assured. All thirty-one visiting young and eight attendants remain here today.

Queen continuing independent growth and language work with her teacher and Dot. I am learning how much meaning fits inside a pause.

Risa requested another check. Baby developing, heartbeat steady. Shared the news with Sera and Luna. Curtain finished.

One hundred and seventy-five on the human and kit roster. No arrivals or departures today.

We have questions.

We also have somewhere to come home to.